Supertrooper Psyche Test
by Red Witch
Summary: Lazardus Slade decides to try a simple psychology test on Kilbane. Oh boy...


**Kilbane shot the disclaimer saying that I don't own any Galaxy Rangers Characters. Just another insane idea from insane little old me! **

**Supertrooper Psyche Test**

"All right," Lazarus Slade rubbed his hands together and looked at his tools. "Now Kilbane we're going to do a simple psychological test. You know the Queen put me in charge of finding personalities twisted enough to serve in her new army and I might as well start with you."

"Why am I doing this again?" Kilbane snarled.

"Because I'm paying you a large amount of credits," Slade gave him a look.

"Good enough," Kilbane shrugged. "Okay let's do it."

"This is pretty simple," Slade showed him some ink blots. "I show you these ink blots and you tell me what you see. First one, what do you see?"

"I see the Runt," Kilbane snarled.

"You mean Gooseman?" Slade sighed. "Say his name please."

"Why?"

"Because that's a name I've already picked out for another idiot taking the test," Slade explained.

"Which one?" Kilbane asked.

"That's confidential," Slade sniffed. "I can't tell you that it's the Queen's Jester."

"The jester?" Kilbane blinked.

"We're desperate okay? Okay next one," Slade changed the picture.

"Gooseman," Kilbane snarled. "Smirking at me."

"Interesting," Slade made a note. "Next picture."

"That's me…"

"Ah," Slade made a note.

"Blasting Gooseman to smithereens!" Kilbane grinned. "I like that picture!"

"Okay," Slade made another note. "Sensing a pattern here. How about **this **picture."

"Gooseman being eaten by a two headed lizard of some kind," Kilbane said. "Can I have that one?"

"No," Slade said. "Next one. What does this look like to you?"

"Gooseman being set on fire."

"What about this one?"

"Gooseman being flattened by a steamroller!"

"And **this** one?" Slade sighed.

"Gooseman being tied to a rocket and about to be blasted into a huge black hole!" Kilbane grinned. "I like these tests!"

"Kilbane this is ridiculous!" Slade snapped. "Every thing you say is about Ranger Gooseman!"

"Well **you're** the one that keeps showing pictures of him," Kilbane growled.

"All right let's try this ink blot," Slade took another picture out. "And try to see anything in this **besides **Gooseman! Now what do you see?"

"Uhhh I see…" Kilbane thought. "A man who may or may not be a Galaxy Ranger…Being run over by a stampeding herd of Bovo cattle."

"Oh for crying out loud!" Slade snapped. "What is wrong with you? This is clearly a picture of two women in bikinis juggling avocados and doing the hula on top of a man covered in baby oil! **Sicko!"**

"Yeah **I** have **problems**," Kilbane gave him a look.

"Obviously! Let's move on to some word association," Slade rubbed his forehead. "I say a word and you tell me the first thing that comes into your mind. Got it?"

"Yeah, easy."

"Okay first word: up."

"Yours," Kilbane gave him a look.

"Happy…"

"Dead Goose."

"Love…"

"To see Goose dead."

"Pain…"

"What Gooseman **deserves!**" Kilbane growled.

"Need…"

"To see Goose die before I do!" Kilbane snapped.

"Fun…"

"Explosives!"

"Well **that** answer was normal," Slade jotted down some notes. "Soap?"

"Uh do you want the PG rated version or the R rated version?" Kilbane blinked.

"Never mind," Slade sighed. "I know I am going to regret asking this next word but it's on the test. Here we go…Hate…."

"Orange juice!" Kilbane said.

"What?" Slade asked. "Come again."

"Orange juice," Kilbane folded his arms. "That's right. I hate orange juice. I hate the taste of it. Especially when it's full of pulp and those floaty things get stuck in your teeth. Blech! I **hate** orange juice and all orange flavored drinks."

"You hate orange juice," Slade gave him a look.

"That's right."

"You just spent nearly the entire test complaining about Gooseman and then you just come out and say you hate **orange juice?"** Slade asked.

"What? A guy can't hate other things?" Kilbane asked. "Technically though I don't hate Gooseman. I **loathe** him. You see hate is slightly less than loathe. It's a whole other level."

"Okay, it's official," Slade put down his papers. "You're nuts. And I don't mean the typical kind of nuts. You are the off the wall, completely psychotic nuts! Hating orange juice! That's is just bonkers! Every idiot knows it's tomato juice that's completely evil!"

"Tomato juice? Now which one of us is **nuts?"** Kilbane snapped.

"I'm just saying what is the deal with Tomato juice? It's not even a fruit!" Slade snapped. "Oh wait technically it is a fruit…"

"Are we done here or do I have to wait a little longer to kick your ass?" Kilbane snarled.

"I am just saying that you are tad obsessed with Gooseman!" Slade snapped. "Even for a psychotic megalomaniac you're too obsessed! I can't even recommend you for a position in the Queen's army! With your mindset you would probably take a whole armada just to blow up Gooseman!"

"I would **not!"** Kilbane snapped. "Half an armada maybe…"

"You're not obsessed?"

"I'm not!"

"Oh really? Here's a little pop quiz for you…" Slade said. "How would you rather spend an evening? Plotting Gooseman's demise or having some fun with some prostitutes?"

"That's easy it would be…" Kilbane hesitated. "I can't do **both?**"

"See what I mean!" Slade snapped.

"It could work!" Kilbane snapped. "Just dress up the girls and ask them what they think is the best way to take out Gooseman and…."

"And you've actually **done **that haven't you?" Slade groaned.

"Yeah. Boy I really do have a problem don't I?" Kilbane realized what he just said.

"Yes! And until you fix it you're not sane enough to lead an army in the Queens' Army!" Slade got up. "Try to do something normal and hate **someone else** for a change! Now I have to go meet with a few ladies to discuss the merits of avocados and baby oil. Sicko!" He stormed out.

"Great! This is **another** thing Gooseman has ruined for me!" Kilbane snapped. "Wait a minute…Slade's right. I do need to branch out a little…"He got up and followed Slade. "Oh Sla-aaade…"

"What?" Slade snapped. Then Kilbane started to beat the tar out of him. "OW! NO! KILBANE! STOP IT! STOP IT! AAAAHHHH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU SICK MANIAC?"

"Just following your advice Slade," Kilbane snickered. "I'm feeling better already. Too bad **you** aren't!"

"AAAHHH! THAT'S IT!" Slade ran for his life from Kilbane. "THAT'S THE LAST TIME I TEST A SUPERTROOPER!"


End file.
